


306.73 or: How to Woo a Librarian

by ReyloTrashCompactor (NextToSomething)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Libraries, librarian Ben, neurodivergent Rey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 22:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8179015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NextToSomething/pseuds/ReyloTrashCompactor
Summary: She was back again. Ben called her The Scavenger in his head because she liked to pick collections dry. (Though he knew from her library card that her name was Rey. Pretty.) There wasn’t a pattern to her hauls, only that she’d take almost an entire shelf with her in that ratty little messenger bag and leave him to pick up her mess. But, Ben didn’t suppose he was fooling anyone but himself: he had it bad for the Scavenger and she was back. He’d talk to her tonight. He would.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [politicalmamaduck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmamaduck/gifts).



> Inspired by a prompt on Tumblr, this is a little Library!AU that I'm excited to see where it goes. Don't know on number of chapters yet, but I don't expect more than two or three. I hope you enjoy!

She was back again. Ben called her The Scavenger in his head because she liked to pick collections dry. (Though he knew from her library card that her name was Rey. Pretty.) There wasn’t a pattern to her hauls, only that she’d take almost an entire shelf with her in that ratty little messenger bag and leave him to pick up her mess. Two weeks ago, it was the 641s, which was fine enough, but honestly who needed two dozen cookbooks of _only_ Ethiopian food? The week before, she’d torn apart the Bs, robbing them of every single biography of Han Solo the library owned, and he knew from personal experience that that was both excessive and not that great of a story. Before that, the 940.5s, then the 155.6s, and before that, she’d checked out almost their entire collection of YA graphic novels.

He didn’t understand her, and couldn’t fathom that she was actually _reading_ all these books in the singular week she would have them checked out, but occasionally he’d find one of her sticky notes still left in the books, so she must be at least skimming them.

A large, book-loving part of him praised her for not marking up the books like most of the students did. Not a page was creased and there were never highlighted sections. Just the odd post-it, though those never made sense. They were always just one word, and usually a name with an arrow pointing to the pertinent line. “Grandad,” or “Finn,” or “Jessika.”

He was a doctoral student and much too old to be scamming on the undergrads, but damn if this girl didn’t fascinate him. Tall but slender and knock-you-in-the-face pretty in that freckled, messy hair kind of way. She’d never said a thing to him beyond her “thank you” when he handed back her books. It was enough for him to latch on to her accent and warm at the surprisingly low pitch of her voice. He’d missed her when she didn’t show last week to return her cookbooks and take another swoop of the stacks.

Ben didn’t suppose he was fooling anyone but himself: he had it bad for the Scavenger and she was _back._ He’d talk to her tonight. He would. There were enough student workers at the desk to not need him running things and it wasn’t near finals time and he would. Tonight. He’d ask her if she’d cooked any of the recipes in her books or if she’d read the latest issue of The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl. He meant to catch her as she was dumping the books into the return slot, but one of the circ kids asked him a question and he lost her.

It was stupid and almost creepy, but he went into the stacks after her. Just to ask her if she needed any help finding anything. If she needed a job, as she knew half the collection already. Ask her to coffee.

He started in the 900s and quickly lost hope. She wasn’t usually one for fiction, but as he was already in the 250s and not coming up with anything, he thought she might be tucked away in the stacks upstairs. Just as he was about to give up, he found her.

The 020s.

Maybe she did want a job.

“Library science?”

She jumped and dropped her book which landed with a loud bang on the hardwood floor. She looked up at him then quickly away, turning into the shelf and running her fingers along the books in a very good imitation of someone who didn’t know what they were looking for.

Her book was still laying on the floor.

He reached for it and held it out. She was very pointedly ignoring him. 

_Shit._

“You, um, dropped this?” _Idiot,_ he thought. Of course she dropped it. The whole floor knew she dropped the book.

“Thank you,” she mumbled and took it from him without looking. It occurred to him that he’d still never heard anything from her but these two words.

“Can I...help you find anything?”

She was quiet for a long moment, and he thought that she meant to ignore him again as she kept playacting like she was looking for a specific book. She kept running her fingers over the books, tracing the titles then the call numbers, one by one. Next shelf, same thing. Like she was performing an action that she had memorized.

“I’d like books about librarians, please. These are all about _librarianship_ or their jobs. But I want books about librarians as people.”

Her voice was beautiful. Measured and posh and deep. Ben felt his ears heat with a blush, and he moved his hands through his long hair to make sure his Dumbo-ears were covered. “Any particular librarian you’re interested in?”

He cringed. That sounded like a come on. _Real gross, dude._

“Well, _you_ , actually,” she answered. “But you don’t have your doctorate yet so I doubt you’ve had any books written about you, even if your dad and mum are famous.”

“W-what?”

She turned to look up at him. Well, sort of. She looked at his nose. He knew it was big and that it drew the eye, so it didn’t bother him much. He wished she’d look him in the eye, though. She had gorgeous eyes.

“I’m Rey,” she said in a way that seemed like she’d hold her hand out for him to shake. She didn’t, of course. Ben wasn’t sure why he’d added the _of course_.

“I’m Ben. You know about my parents?”

She cocked her head, her eyes flitting to his for the barest of moments before settling on his nose again. “You checked out all those biographies on Han Solo to me. You know that I know about your parents.”

He liked her. He liked her a whole lot. She was weird and direct and he really, really liked her.

“Why do you want a book about me?” he asked. He took a step closer and she took a step back. This made sense somehow and he took a step back as well, giving her more space.

“To know how to talk to you,” she answered. She was looking at his eyebrows now. She wanted to know how to talk to him.

“You’re talking to me now, aren’t you? You don’t need a book for that.”

She cocked her head again, considering. “I usually do.” She tapped her nail on a four leaf clover button on the strap of her messenger bag and his eyes darted down at the sound.

_**Don’t kiss me, I’m on the spectrum.** _

**__**Oh.

She seemed to change then, turning back to the shelf and starting to run her fingers along the books again. He reached out to her, but caught himself before he touched her shoulder. He pulled his hand back and squeezed it into a tight fist. _It’s okay! Come back!_

“Do you like coffee?” he asked. Her finger slowed on the books.

“No.”

Ben nodded. That was fine. It’s fine. There are plenty of other weird, beautiful, direct girls who singlehandedly drive the circ stats for late Thursday nights at the campus library. It’s fine.

“But I like coffee shops. I like people watching.”

He smiled. Relieved. “I do too. You want to people watch together sometime?”

“Okay,” she said, not turning from the books. “My phone number is in my file on the computer. I give you permission to write it down and text me. Please don’t call. I’m horrible at phones.”

His smile grew. He was horrible at phones, too. 

“Okay,” he said. She was quiet again, but she was smiling at the books. 

“Let me know if I can help you find anything else.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please take a moment to tell me what you think! I welcome any and all feedback. I'm really excited to see where this goes, and I'd love to hear from you! <3


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